


Run

by HalfnHalf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fighting, M/M, cursing, idk what else to tag, in which john and dave become fiances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfnHalf/pseuds/HalfnHalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You didn't mean to run away. But you did, and that's what hurt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> this was for a friend's birthday and it's kinda dumb but here have it anyway.

"You're such a dick!" You yelled, and you were staring at him and him back at you and you were seriously starting to wonder why the hell you love him so much anyway.

Laughing slightly - actually fucking _laughing_ at you - he stares. "So are you, you know."

Rolling your eyes, you laughed just as hard, because fuck Dave, fuck him, fuck everything about him. “Oh, I’m the dick? Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“A+ response there, John. I’m fucking applauding you on your level of excellence in douchebaggery, I assure you. No one can measure up to the level of ‘fuck you all’ that John fucking Egbert has achieved on this very day. Would you like to make a speech?” And you couldn’t even tell if he was serious or not but you were assuming not, and there goes all the sass and fucking general asshole behaviour, and you just wanted to scream.

And so you did. "I hate you!"

Storming out of the small apartment you'd shared with him for months, trying not to trip over the dumb shit left laying around by the both of you, you grit your (slightly bigger than average) teeth.

You can't believe you actually said that.

Your name is John Egbert, and you got into a fight with your boyfriend of five years and left. Two days before his birthday.

 

 

TA: hey 2triider.  
TA: a22hole.  
TA: diickwad.  
TA: fuckface.  
TA: hey.  
TA: ii know youre there so iif you could ju2t 2top iignoriing me that would be great.  
TA: okay 2eriiou2ly iif you dont an2wer iim goiing to walk over there.  
TA: ii dont care that iit2 two am.   
TG: for fucks sake captor  
TG: what the hell do you want  
TG: im kind of busy jesus fucking christ   
TA: oh shiit. 2orry. what are you doiing?   
TG: nothing  
TG: thinking  
TG: i dont know   
TA: your lack of 2hiitty rambliing2 2care2 me.  
TA: what2 goiing on?   
TG: can we just not talk about it please  
TG: im gonna go to bed or whatever i guess  
TG: im not feeling too hot

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are being pretty much a vague asshole, you realize as your computer is powered down and you lay in bed staring at your ceiling. You also realize how much you honestly just cannot bring yourself to care.

Raised better than to let this whole relationship thing get to you, you have a feeling that your brother is probably off somewhere shaking his head at you. This also makes you feel worse. You’re not sure why it’s affecting you so much in the first place.

Maybe because it’s John. Maybe because it’s the one person you had ever actually wanted something serious with. Maybe because it’s the one person that actually means more than some shitty little fling to you. If that even makes sense. You just know he ~~was~~ is important. That’s just all there is to it.

And you know you want him home.

You’re not even mildly surprised when you’re waking up to your best friend (other best friend, that is) pressing his foot against your face in a horrible attempt to wake you. It works, but you’re left sitting there grumbling at him and he’s glaring at you, and you don’t know how but he _knows._

Maybe it’s because John isn’t there. That’s probably a dead giveaway because John keeps his schedule tacked in every fucking room, a very clear reminder that he’s currently missing in action.

“What the hell happened, Tht-Thr-... Thcumbag. You’ve barely talked to me - actually, from what I’ve gathered you’ve barely talked to anyone - thince yethterday morning. And now John who practically fucking clingth to you like some thort of friendly koala ith-”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

“-- Mithing.”

Swallowing hard, you frown. “Okay, shit. Just, shut the fuck up okay? We got into a fight.” He stares at you because no shit, Dave. You’re a mess, you even know you are.

“Do you even know where John went? Do you know if he’s even safe?”

John hasn’t answered any of your calls. You haven’t answered any of his either. You just stare at him.

 

 

“What do you want, whiny ass shitstain?” Karkat nearly hisses at you, but he lets you in just like you knew he would. In fact, you think he’s letting you off easy.

You think, at least. But even he can see the condition you’re in, can see the red around your eyes and hear the sniffles you’re really trying hard to hide. God damn fucked up shit, you know he’s probably pissed as fuck but you’re sitting here crying and how fucking pathetic is that.

Sighing a little, he lets out a sharp breath and massages the bridge of his nose, and he’s probably fuming on the inside (he regretted telling you to say yes to Dave when he asked you out _anyway_ ) - and you know he’s demanding an explanation.

“We kind of, uh, got into a fight. Haha... It was all really dumb, but I told him I hated him. And I was so mad and guilty and I left. I just. I walked out.” You stare at him because you know you kind of deserve any and all anger that you get, but you just want someone to-- understand?

“You just. You just walked out.” He says, and you nod. What even is there to say to that.

He sits down and pats the seat next to him, and you just fall into it, and lean against him, and sit there silently. You fall asleep that way.

It’s Dave’s birthday before you know it, and you feel shittier than you have in years. And it’s stupid. You know it is. It’s so incredibly fucking stupid that you haven’t talked to him, and he hasn’t talked to you.

Working up the nerve, you borrow Karkat’s computer, _Please please please, Karkat, I can’t handle talking to him face to face just yet. Not until I know what’s going on_ , and you sign onto messenger, hoping to everything and anything good that he’s actually online.

EB: dave?  
EB: you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.  
EB: … i’d be pretty mad too.  
EB: i just wanted to tell you i miss you.  
EB: i miss you a lot.  
EB: and happy birthday.  
EB: even if the events leading up to it were kind of stupid.   
TG: hey egbert  
TG: thanks   
EB: i’m sorry about everything.  
EB: especially what i said. i don’t hate you.  
EB: i know i was being really horrible.   
TG: i was too yknow  
TG: cant take all the blame for both of our stupidity   
EB: i guess not.  
EB: anyway uh,  
EB: can i come home?  
EB: i have something for you.   
TG: you could have came home at any time you dumb fuck  
TG: (read: please come home i miss you too)   
EB: i’ll see you soon.

 

 

You’ve only ever been this nervous, waiting for John to finally come home, as you were when you two actually decided to get together. But he’s coming home, it’s going to be okay, you tell yourself. Remind yourself. You love him. And he still loves you.

He doesn’t knock, which you’re so glad for because that means he knows this is still his home, still your home, the home you shared and hoped to share for a long ass time. The first thing he does is run over to you where you’re laying on the couch and actually fucking jumps on top of you, you can tell he’s shaking slightly, but he’s so happy to see you. He kisses you, harder than he has in awhile, and a smile forces its way onto your lips.

Everything about him is the same. You can smell the slight hint of his angry little best friend (beside yourself) and even that is the same. You realize this should make sense because it hasn’t even been a week since he left, but you still find yourself over-excited about the whole thing.

“I love you. I’m so sorry.” He whispers, and you chuckle softly, running your fingers through the back of his hair, and smiling to yourself.

“I love you too."

He pulls away a bit and gets off of you, asking you to sit up. You do. Surprised. Confused? Yeah, confused. Even more so when he just kneels in front of you, casually. And it’s weird because what the hell, who even kneels anymore unless they’re planning to--

Oh.

He’s got this dumb grin on his face and he’s taking your hand in his, as he starts talking. “I know you’re not really one for romantics. Or, at least you say you aren’t. But come on, I see those happy smiles you get when we go out on dates. Anyway. We’ve been together a really long time right? A really, really long time. And. I guess I just, want to keep it that way. The past two days were horrible. I realized, I can live without you, sure. But I really don’t ever want to. The best mood I was in was miserable. And it’s not even just that. I’d been planning to ask you for awhile... I just realized how much I actually want to be with you, permanently, and maybe be Mr. John Strider or have you be Mr. Dave Egbert - both of them sound really weird, honestly, but when haven’t we been weird? - or maybe the Strider-Egberts or Egbert-Striders or anything at all, but I want to be an _us._ I want to officially be John and Dave. If that makes sense. And um. I mean, it’s just been on my mind for awhile.”

You stare at him as he pulls out this plain band of a ring, silver with little cogwheels in it (that actually _spin when you turn the ring_ ), and it looks so perfect to you and you don’t even know why.

“You’re such an idiot, John. We’ve always been an us. … But I think I’d like that, yeah.” And slips the ring on your finger, and moves up to kiss you, and you’re both smiling so happily, and this is why you love him so much.

Because no matter what dumb shit either of you do or say, you both know you won’t ever stop loving the other. And that’s what’s important.

 

 

Looking over at your new fiance, you smile sleepily, and dip your head over a bit to kiss his cheek one more time. “I love you, Dave.”

“I love you, more, John.”


End file.
